Chapter 499: A Different Third Anglo-Mysore War
Not far to the north, an Indian palanquin slowly made its way toward the British encampment. Seringapatam was currently riddled with standing water and mud, making it difficult even for horses to traverse, so human-powered palanquins were the only means of transport.
Soon after, Wellesley saw the very man he had been anticipating, Governor-General Cornwallis of India, step onto the back of a palanquin bearer and alight. Although servants had already spread straw mats on the ground, a considerable amount of mud and water still splashed up, staining his legs.
"I was just about to send someone to inquire about your remaining supplies, and here you are," Wellesley said, removing his gloves and stepping forward to embrace the Governor-General. "I hope you bring good news."
"One piece of good news and one piece of bad news."
Cornwallis shook the mud from his leather boots with a disgusted expression, then glanced at a chair placed outside the command post:
"Do you mind if I sit here?"
"Of course not. It was prepared for you," Wellesley replied, gesturing for an aide to fetch another chair from the tent before sitting opposite the Governor-General. "Well then, please tell me the bad news first."
Cornwallis lifted his leg, allowing a servant to wipe the mud from his trousers, and pointed to the teapot on the table. "Please pour me a cup as well, this wretched weather... Oh, I think I'll start with the good news. It'll be over in a flash."
"As you wish. Although, in a way, that's also bad news."
Savanur was a southern Maratha province bordering Mysore. Currently, British logistical supplies were all blocked in Malabar Port, and they could only receive provisions from the Marathas. However, the Indian princely states could only provide food; weapons, medicine, wine, warhorses, and even tents had to be shipped by Britain itself from Europe.
Cornwallis picked up his teacup, his expression dimming:
"The bad news is that the four transport ships that arrived at Malabar Port the month before last will be the last batch.
The East India Company's Board of Directors has decided not to invest any more funds in the Far East theater. In fact, the company's negotiators should be arriving in North Canara soon."
Wellesley didn't appear particularly surprised. He looked at the Governor-General and said:
"In other words, our window to launch an offensive is closing?"
He had learned earlier that the East India Company had successively invested 3.2 million Pound Sterling in military expenses in Mysore, exceeding the company's annual domestic tax payment to the British government.
This had resulted in the company having almost no profit this year, and next year would also be significantly affected. It was said that the company's stock price had fallen rapidly because of this.
Therefore, the Board's decision to cut their losses was to be expected.
Cornwallis nodded. "By the latest, the end of this year, the expeditionary force will have to return home, or their pay will even run out."
"I understand. Then, once the heavy artillery arrives, we'll have the final decisive battle."
A month and a half later.
Tipu Sultan gazed at the hazy curtain of rain, then turned his head to his guard captain and asked:
"Is the position confirmed?"
"Yes, Great Sultan, the British cannons are two miles ahead."
Tipu Sultan nodded, then turned and drew his scimitar. He declared loudly to the 1,700 Janissary soldiers around him:
"Those infidels have killed our kin and friends, throwing innocent children into pots to cook!
Now they seek to invade Seringapatam, and we must never let such a thing happen!
If you wish to protect your families, to save your children from becoming food for the British, then follow me and send them back to hell with your blades!"
Thanks to the propaganda of Salah, the consul stationed in Mysore, the demonic image of the British had become deeply ingrained in Mysore. It was widely believed that every British soldier ate one child per week to maintain their ferocity.
This rumor had even spread to British-controlled princely states like Hyderabad and Carnatic. Three months prior, some Udayagiri people, fearing their children would be captured and eaten, had even killed two passing British soldiers.
Thus, the Mysoreans were now united by a shared hatred of the enemy, and all fought desperately against the British army.
The rain stopped.
Marquis Wellesley waited for the ground to dry out slightly, then immediately ordered 5,000 British troops to form the core of a force supervising 30,000 Maratha troops as they advanced towards Seringapatam.
At the same time, 4,000 British troops from Cornwallis's legion on the north side also launched an attack with over 30,000 soldiers from Indian princely states, forming an encirclement of Seringapatam.
The British 12-pounder cannons began to roar. Seven cannons, firing at their maximum rate, unleashed a fierce barrage to suppress the Mysore cannons one kilometer away. The latter only had ten 8-pounder cannons, which also had to be deployed dispersedly for defense outside the city; the rest were 4-pounder cannons, their range far inferior to the British heavy artillery.
Around 4 PM, Tipu Sultan, leading nearly 2,000 Mysore soldiers, suddenly emerged from the flank and rear of the British artillery positions, rushing towards the cannons that were firing frantically.
The British infantry assigned to cover them clearly hadn't anticipated an enemy attack and hastily beat drums to begin organizing their formations.
Tipu Sultan had taken advantage of the rain to slip through a gap between the British and Maratha forces to reach this spot. Because he was extremely familiar with the terrain, and unable to use telescopes due to the heavy rain, no one had discovered their presence.
Tipu Sultan led by example, not even bothering with a musket, brandishing his scimitar and charging directly into the British infantry lines.
These 1,700-plus men were his most elite Janissaries, each one ferociously brave. Enduring three volleys from the more than 400 British infantrymen facing them, they finally closed in on their right flank—fortunately, their attack was very sudden, and the British formation was not orderly, resulting in a far from ideal volley effect.
After suffering nearly 300 casualties, the Mysoreans broke through the British infantry lines. They then detached over a thousand men to block the Maratha auxiliaries coming to reinforce them, while the others took out iron spikes to spike the touchholes of the cannons.
At the same time, Tipu Sultan's eldest son, Nawaz, was leading 50,000 Mysore main forces in a head-on battle against the British army.
These soldiers, having been trained by Lafayette, were significantly superior to the armies of other Indian states, both in terms of formation and discipline.
So, as long as they weren't directly facing the British "lobsterbacks," Mysore's defensive lines were as solid as a rock, and they could even launch local counterattacks.
Once the British advanced, they would exchange a few volleys, then quickly reposition, using their rear ranks to continue delaying—the area outside Seringapatam was more than ten miles wide, with plenty of mountainous terrain suitable for defense.
On Tipu Sultan's side, after destroying six 12-pounder cannons and many other artillery pieces, the British forces sent by Wellesley for reinforcement finally arrived.
Tipu Sultan glanced at the already dimming sky and immediately ordered a retreat.
His fighting style was precisely this: enjoying extreme risks and launching reckless surprise attacks. Historically, it was with this tactic that he contended with Britain, the world's hegemon, in Southern India for several years.
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